Beauty Sleep
by Zenilia Poe
Summary: Modernization of Sleeping Beauty. A very practical and lonly girl learns that her birth was not all she thought it to be. She is a princess. And, what are the birthrights of a princess? Power, riches, love, and magic, but ... death?
1. Socio Mom

La dee dah. I do not own the story of Sleeping Beauty. I do however own this story.

You really have to love the Grimm brothers for coming up with such twisted plots. Oh and I don't own any of the other fictional character I make reference to either.

**Dec 3**

Which for you Mrs. Cayle, I've decided to entitle:

**Reflections on Driving, or Why I can't drive because Mom's a Sociopath.**

I've never been allowed to drive. It's not the insurance risk. My parents don't believe in insurance, or doctors, dentists, even birth control for that matter. We're a strictly aromatherapy family. Sometimes, mom's back will get too bad and she'll go to some naturalist or the acupuncturist, but that's about as extensive as we get.

I make my own appointments. The doctors at the free health clinic know me well. I actually like to have my pain relieved, though my family could never understand that point, and if and when they find my prescriptions they are thrown away.

I can't even practice driving a vehicle. It's not a money thing; cause I know uncle Alfred has tons of old ward of state pick-ups sitting around his back yard. The city of Brownville's Public Commissioner is always on Grandma and Alfred to have them removed. He could lend me one till school finishes.

It's definitely not an " I'm too stupid and uncoordinated to turn a wheel and push a pedal " kind of thing, because even drunk people can do that.

The real reason is completely ludicrous. You wouldn't believe it, even if I told you. Which of course, I will. With all those legitimate motivations to choose from out there, it all comes down to superstition. My mother believes that someone has cursed me, and that I will meet my untimely death, at the wheel of a car.

So, it's actually more of a 'my mom was a stupid wanna-be witch' kind of thing.

It all seems really stupid to me as she is at this very moment at bible study, probably learning about how they stoned witches. She's not a very good role model eh, saying one thing, and then doing another? My mom is the worst of the hypocrites.

Actually I have to give her props, since the whole curse thing, she's really gone in the other direction. She says she doesn't want to dabble in such powerful arts anymore. She couldn't bare it if she ruined another person's life over it.

I laugh and say more power too her, I just wish she'd stop ordering all her clothing off Wicca Goddess. She dresses like a character off of _Harry Potter_. It's very disturbing, for my teachers, classmates and me. As for church, when she comes in, in her billowing black and purple renaissance gowns, complete with hood and cape, I guess they just have to embrace her.

I don't tolerate any talk of curses or magic. It's all very stupid and childish, not to mention completely unscientific. I don't tolerate much of the bible either, though mom drags me to church every Sunday. She plays the piano for the services and Daniel (dad) preaches from time to time. It's a scary thought to think at one time they sat around the card table and contacted spirits. Or gave the board a good run around. Now they're both so solemn. Extremely devoted to Christ, and to the church. However, I still can't drive.

I can't write anymore either, I have to listen to my Science teacher Mr. Boar, droll on and on about collecting bark samples. Which of course is soo much more important than my personal journal.


	2. Cro Mag Men

Dec 2, 1:03 Pm

**English Class: _Personal Journal Time_**

**"Women are from Venus and Men live in the Pre-Historic Jungle and Scratch their Balls"**

I just want to say in my defense, being able to drive really could have gotten me out of the jam I was in today.

I kind of sort of told Lucy Sells during lunch break that I had at one point liked… okay maybe _liked _wasn't really the word I used, more been _obsessed_ with a certain James Finn. She took it the wrong way. Of course, she's _crazy_ Lucy Sells. You don't tell crazy Lucy anything. Unless your me, and completely out of your mind. The minute it popped out of my mouth I knew it was a mistake. I have that problem an awful lot.

"Luce, please don't tell anyone ok?"

She smiled at me really big.

"Shit." She seemed quite un-phased at my profanity. It is a well-known fact that she is completely insane and impersonal. I should stop trying to be so god damned charitable all the time.

"It's okay Tea, He told me that he's into you. He'll want to know, you should tell him. He's a really good friend of mine you' know? We go out all the time. And once he said he was totally into you. Serious."

He hated her. They never hung out. She lied and lied and lied.

"Uhh huh. But, listen I'm not going to tell him." I hung my head wearily. She could believe whatever she wanted, just as long as she didn't go tell him.

"I'm going to tell him." She started up the hill. I should have seen it coming.

"No, Lucy don't. I don't want him to know. He doesn't like me Lucy."

She looked down at me, and hollered, "You don't think anyone likes you." In front of a whole crowd of guys, who looked from one to another with sly grins and then burst out laughing. I let loose, I was already humiliated.

My jawed dropped open completely at this point. I started screaming as she neared the first level of the multilevel parking lot.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare! What? I was joking. Don't tell him. You're not really going to are you? I don't like him anymore. Luuucy! I'm a lesbian!!!!"

The boys amused themselves some more, including my anonymous science partner, who never showed up for school, but who I got assigned to anyway.

She was half way up the hill and to the plateau that the school sat on. She was going to tell him, and I couldn't get away. This boy whom I had dreamed about, fantasized, pined on about, cried for, for nearly two years and I couldn't get away. Worst of all, I had a massive audience.

I honestly didn't think that she would say anything. But then, there he was, I saw him walking toward me. There was nowhere to run. I was standing in the middle of a freaking parking lot.

"Shit. shit. shit. shit" I just kept breathing over and over again. I was helpless, completely helpless. I just wanted something to happen, anything to remove myself from that exact moment.

So I ran behind a massive suburban parked sideways across three spaces.

"Lame. So lame. Everybody saw you do that." I whimpered. I looked out and he was standing there confused. I sighed. He might as well be scratching his head and picking lice of his clothing. He looked like an ape, or worse a cromag man. How could I have loved this boy for so long?

"Damnit. Why can't I just grow some balls?" I watched him from my place tentatively until he had hustled away threw the tall prehistoric grass, to find someone else to mate with, which took about two seconds.

And so is my life. I am destined never to marry, and just like _Brigitte Jones_, my favorite heroine, end up a 33 year old spinster. Though I have no plans to ever actually use a spinning wheel.

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and so has personal journaling hour. Adieu.


	3. Crash

**Dec 3**

**Crash**

I stood around outside waiting for someone to pick me up. I put my head down, and tried to find myself a crowd of friendly looking people to mingle with. I have never been the most outgoing person, so really I just stood there. Hoping he wouldn't bother to come over and talk to me.

The same groups of guys were standing to my left next to my science partner's new sports car. He was showing it off. I rolled my eyes.

Luckily for me, my sister Siv showed up in her new Escalade. Honking the horn brightly, she smiled and got out of the car to model herself to the group of said seniors. My science partner whistled and asked for her phone number. I wanted to shoot him in the face, but restrained myself.

"Sivvi," I said shoving her into the car, "we don't have all day." I had enough urgency in my voice that she kicked the vehicle into drive, but not without irritating glance.

"That guy was going to give me his number you know. That's a hott car."

"That he probably bought with drug money," I answered, "You can get it when he comes over the house tomorrow night."

"Oh." She answered dramatically, "You have a date,"

"Only if you like to dissect various bark specimens and do detailed sketches of moss on your dates. He's my science partner. You can have him just as soon as he wanders off and leaves me."

"Don't be so negative." Siv snapped. She was the moodiest person I'd ever met. Say one thing just slightly wrong, and boom you've destroyed the conversation.

We sat in a laborious silence for several minutes; the only sound was of the tires smashing again the pavement. Finally Siv turned to me and broke the silence.

"Mom wants us to go to the church tonight. No exceptions." She said lightly, flipping her dark brown hair with one hand as she drove.

"Why." I asked flatly, looking in the opposite direction out the window. I took a moment for her to answer as she adjusted the radio dials to her favorite country western channel.

I rolled down the window a little, unexpectedly having this awful feeling, like I was going to throw up.

"Some…thing… advent I think. There's food."

Ahhh, the she said the dangerous words, _there's food_.

"Okay. But only if there's food. Turn down the music. I feel really sick."

Siv just turned it up, and sang louder. I clamped my hands over my ears, a little juvenile, but whatever. It was always that way. I acted like I was pre-pubescent and Siv acted like she was menopausal.

No one would have ever known from appearances that I was in fact the older daughter.

_Siv is beautiful, brown eyed, creamy, and she wears a lot of natural make up. She does her hair and she wears nice stylish clothing. She just always looks presentable. _

_While I on the other hand, take more to my mother. I wore a lot of dark, dresses and skirts. Most of it I bought at second hand shops, if and when I went shopping at all. My asset is my hair, which is my most often complimented feature. _

_I like my hair; it's blonde, shiny, healthy and completely perfect. I like my face okay too. I have wide features, and they are proportioned enough. Nothing is out of place, and I look quite charming when my sister gets her hands on me. I am nothing compared to Siv though, and I will forever be jealous._

Sivvy fussed with the knobs trying to change the channel to _ChrisHits Radio _107.5. She looked up, and when she did the most awful expression came spread through her face. I looked from her to the road. The stoplight was coming toward us very quickly, and we were driving about 35 miles over the speed limit. We could not make the stop.

Suddenly Sivvy slammed on the brakes, but the car kept on moving. We slid threw the four way intersection. Cars honked their horns as they slid into cars on the other side of the street. We twisted in circles, sliding across the road. Sivvy clutched my hand and closed her eyes, as we watched a car come sliding toward us at full speed. I tried to take the wheel, and control it, but it was much too late. A bright red sports car slid into the car.

On impact Sivvy passed out. The car hit the driver's side door at 30 miles an hour, crushing her body beneath the left bumper and the metal frame. I was barely conscious, and I watched blood run out of her mouth and onto the briar red seat cushions she had worked so hard to earn. I myself was crushed against the _Napa_ building and the door, no idea why I was conscious.

Why any god, would make me conscious for all the pain that was flowing into my head. I felt like I had had gallons of _BenGay_ rubbed on to my skin. I was burning, every tissue disgruntled and strung out. My bones were broken and out of position. I couldn't even scream for help because my jaw was broken.

I closed my eyes, and I wished that it had never happened. I wished so hard, that my brain began to ache inside its insides.

Siv opened her eyes for a brief second and tried to speak. I tried to grab her hand, but my ribs were broken or something. Instead I just lay there.

"Please. I want this to go away." I whimpered, "I want all of it to go away."

Then the most unexplainable and unscientific thing that has ever occurred occurred.


End file.
